Digging Up the Dead
by Hawki
Summary: Jasper Jones Oneshot: Eliza was good at burying things. Charlie was good at digging them up.


**Digging Up the Dead**

No-one goes by the old Wishart place anymore.

Bad enough that it was burnt down. Bad enough that Mr Wishart was badly injured, never again able to properly breathe after the smoke inhalation. Bad enough that no-one ever found poor Laura Wishart, or Jasper Jones for that matter. Bad luck visited the Wishart family. Mr Wishart has long been dead, and his wife, God rest her soul, joined him. Nasty time, the sixties. But now, as the 1970s reach their end, with the war in Vietnam over, even as the Cold War continues, maybe Corrigin can find some peace.

No-one talks about Eliza much these days – the one Wishart who's still alive, the one Wishart who never became immune to the suspicious eyes of the townsfolk. The people whisper, you see – they think Eliza set the fire. They think Eliza had something to do with the death of her sister. They think that…well, they think a lot of things about Eliza Wishart. Those first two are right, mind you. She did set the fire. And in her mind, she _was_ involved in her sister's death. Involved through inaction, but involved nonetheless. Even now, she can see her sister climbing the tree. Even now, she can see her sister fall, in a slow drop that comes to a sudden stop. Eliza Wishart can see a lot of things in the past. Like now, as she and Charles Bucktin stand in the yard of the old Wishart place. Ten years it was burnt down. Five years since they began studying at the University of Western Australia. Three years since those studies ended. One year since they got married, and Eliza Wishart officially became Eliza Bucktin. Two months since James Bucktin was brought into the world.

James Bucktin is sleeping in the car. He's slept all day, as they visited Charlie's father. He's the only one left in this town that either of them care to talk to. It's sunset, and they'll be leaving soon, but first, they have to get some things. That's why they're walking through the Wishart yard, Charlie holding a shovel, Eliza looking for where she buried them.

"They're here," she says.

"Sure?"

"I'm sure."

She isn't, actually, and she feels bad for the lie. Of course, lies were what brought them together all those years ago – the truth came much later. Truth that was worked on over time, so that now, they're living in truth as best they can. But, Charlie trusts his wife. So with shovel in hand, he begins digging. It's the back yard – no-one on the street can see them. Few people on the street would care to give this place a look.

"Need any help?" Eliza asks, as soil is dug out from beneath him.

"I'm fine," Charlie replies. He smiles at her. "I know a bit about digging."

That's true, she reflects. She remembers how, ten years ago, Charlie's mother made him dig up a hole in his yard as punishment for sneaking out during curfew. How he'd claimed he was seeing her, in a bid to cover for Jasper. How Sarge had come round, and, on the spur of the moment, confirmed that yes, Charles Bucktin _had_ broken curfew to come see her. How she felt a mix of emotions that day – annoyance that she had to cover for him, yet a weird feeling that yes, she would have liked to see him that night. A feeling that wasn't helped as Charlie's mother shooed her away when she'd come to visit him the following afternoon – he was being punished. He was digging up the yard, and then he had to fill it in.

He'll have to do the same this time, she reflects. But luckily, ten years ago, she didn't dig as deep. It doesn't take long for Charlie's shovel to hit something solid.

"Careful!" she exclaims.

"I am being careful."

"You hit it!"

"You want to dig, be my guest!"

They bicker, as all couples do. But not for long. Because Charlie has indeed struck gold. Metaphorically, of course. But as they dig out the old biscuit box, they both know that to Eliza, this is worth more than all the riches of the world. Slowly, her husband hands it to her. Slowly, she opens it, holding the box in one hand. The other over her mouth.

"Laura," she whispers.

Pictures of Laura, Laura's toys, Laura's drawings…all the mementos she could find of her sister. The mementos she had to save before burning her house down. Everything that could remind her, of who her sister was. Mementos in a world that turned a blind eye to who, _what_ her father was, yet let her sister be forgotten. She puts her mouth closer, as her chin begins to quaver. As the tears come to her eyes, as a bitter breeze blows through her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry…"

She breaks down in tears. She continues as her husband hugs her, as they keep together, as the wind blows around them. It's summer, and wind can stir up fires easily. But the fire within them both can't be quenched. It burns eternal.

"I'll fill in the hole," Charlie says eventually.

Eliza nods, and kisses him. "I'll check on James."

One day, James will know about his aunt. About the family he never knew. One day, when he's older still, she'll tell him everything.

But not today. Today is a time of memory, of mourning, of joy. It is all that, and more. She closes the box, as one would a book, and heads back to the car.

This chapter is closed.

Now, her real story can begin.


End file.
